and in me."

"Gaspare must come."

The Marchesino said no more, only shrugged his shoulders with an air of
humorous resignation which hid a real chagrin. He knew how watchful a
Sicilian can be, how unyielding in attention to his mistresses, if he
thinks they need protection.

But perhaps this Gaspare was to be bribed.

Instinctively the Marchesino put his hand into his waistcoat pocket, and
began to feel the money there.

Yes, there was a gold piece.

"Come, Panacci!"

Emilio's hand touched his shoulder, and he followed the ladies out of
the room.

Emilio had called him "Panacci." That sounded almost like a declaration
of war. Well, he was ready. At dinner his had been the triumph, and
Emilio knew it. He meant his triumph to be a greater one before the
evening was over. The reappearance of the gay child in Vere, grafted
upon the comprehending woman whom he had seen looking out of her eyes on
the day of his last visit to the island, had put the finishing touch to
the amorous madness of the Marchesino. He dreamed Vere an accomplished
coquette. He believed that her cruelty on the night of his serenade,
that her coldness and avoidance of him on the day of the lunch, were
means devised to increase his ardor. She had been using Emilio merely as
an instrument. He had been a weapon in her girlish hands. That was the
suitable fate of the old--usefulness.

The Marchesino was in a fever of anticipation. Possibly Vere would play
into his hands when they got to the festa. If not, he must manage things
for himself. The Signora, of course, would make Emilio her escort. Vere
would naturally fall to him, the Marchesino.

But there was the fifth--this Gaspare.

When they came out to the pavement the Marchesino cast a searching
glance at the Sicilian, who was taking the cloaks, while the two
carriages which had been summoned by the hotel porter were rattling up
from the opposite side of the way. Gaspare had saluted him, but did not
look at him again. When Hermione and Vere were in the first carriage,
Gaspare sprang on to the box as a matter of course. The Marchesino went
to tell the coachman which way to drive to the Carmine. When he had
finished he looked at Gaspare and said:

"There will be a big crowd. Take care the Signora does not get hurt in
it."

He laid a slight emphasis on the word "Signora," and put his hand
significantly into his waistcoat-pocket.

Gaspare regarded him calmly.

"Va bene, Signor Marchese,"